Bellsong
by the-cloud-whisperer
Summary: Zukaang Week 2018, Day 8: AU Zuko and Aang celebrate Aang's birthday at the Northern Air Temple.


**A/N** : This ficlet is part of my Avatar Zuko AU. It features Zukaang, Zuko's cousin Lu Ten who does not in fact die, Azula as something other than a controlling sociopath, and loads of random Chinese lessons and changes to canon and the timeline. However, you don't have to have read that to enjoy this fic! The only context you need is that Zuko is the Avatar, Zukaang is a thing in this universe, and currently Aang is teaching Zuko airbending at the Northern Air Temple. The Mechanist and Teo and their people are also living there right now. Zuko is 16 and Aang is turning 18.

* * *

Aang wakes up on the morning of his birthday without Zuko, which in itself is not unusual. For the past few weeks, Zuko's been rising with the sun, sometimes even before it, to practice his meditation in the sanctuary of the main tower. Aang had offered to join him, but he'd waved him off with the excuse of needing absolute peace and solitude to commune with the previous Avatars. So Aang sleeps in and tries not to roll over into the cold side of the bed that's normally occupied.

Until today, anyways. A few golden rays slant through the window across the foot of the bed, the young spring sun's feeble attempt at a wakeup call, but this is not what woke him up. No, in fact, he's awake because Yue Fei is currently sitting across his chest, making it very difficult to continue sleeping or even breathing.

"Sifu Aang." She greets him thus so frequently that he has to wonder if she thinks his first name is Sifu. "Zuko told us to wake you up and kidnap you."

He blinks, befuddled. "Uh… really?"

"Also, you have to wear this!" Yue Zha pops up from the side of the bed and hands him…

"A headband?" He frowns at the narrow strip of cloth in his hands. There's no need to conceal his tattoos here in the air temple.

"No, a blindfold," Yue Fei corrects and promptly ties it over his eyes, leaving him sightless. "Zuko said he wanted to show you a secret, so you have to wear this while we kidnap you."

…okay then. He'll play along.

They insist on clinging to his hands tightly as they drag him through the hallways to whatever their destination is. He can hear the villagers whispering around them as they pass, but no one tries to stop them. Either they're all in on the secret, or they're content to let Aang be abducted for reasons unknown by a couple of seven-year-old girls. Such is his woeful lot in life.

"Seriously, what is he up to?" He tries to question the girls, but Zuko has well and truly sworn them to secrecy.

He can tell that their footsteps are guiding him towards the main sanctuary, confirmed when they start going up and up and up—at Yue Fei and Yue Zha's pace, of course. An eternity later, they arrive at the top of the steps, and the first thing he thinks is, sandalwood?

And then the sound—all of it. A gentle billow of wind laps at his ears, and he steps forward into the hall itself, Yue Fei and Yue Zha letting him go. Still blindfolded, he can nonetheless feel and hear everything.

Bells, bells upon bells ringing in structured disorder, harmonizing until their sounds mix to form a dizzying multitude. Chimes overlaid on top of that clarion toll, their tinkle merry and sweet. The crinkle of incense burning, a background layer just barely perceptible under the bellsong. Aang wouldn't be able to hear it without the blindfold heightening his other senses. The fine murmur of tulle and the rush of air as it brushes past the banners hanging from the ceiling, wafting sandalwood and jasmine around him. Long streamers twirl in the breeze, and tiny bells tied to their ends tinkle as they tumble beneath the vaulted ceiling.

The early morning sun shines down through the skylight, and as he stands there, drenched in warmth and music and a tidal wave of love and serenity, he searches for the one standing at the source of it all.

He does not need to see Zuko to locate him, needs hardly to even hear or feel him breathe. His heart guides him to his other half, standing on the dais at the fore of the hall, the epicenter of this glorious concert of airbending.

He says not a word; neither does Zuko, unwilling to break the spell until presently, the final clang of the bells swirls into silence.

"Typically, we only perform this kind of ceremony for the anointing of a new master," Aang says, still sightless.

Quiet footsteps bring Zuko to rest before him, close enough to hear the rustle of fabric but not to touch its texture. "Are you saying I'm not worthy to be called a master yet?"

"We-ell…" To be fair, Zuko's airbending has advanced in exponential bounds, considering how little time he's had and the limits of Aang's teaching expertise. But he wouldn't say Zuko's fully mastered the art yet.

Zuko laughs, and he does touch Aang now, hands resting on his arms, light touch a blessing, soft and adoring. "I may not be, but _you_ are."

Huh…?

"You didn't get to have the ceremony done when you got your tattoos, didn't you? I thought you might like to now, even though it's six years late, so… happy birthday?"

Oh. Oh, Zuko.

He can't hold back now, not when Zuko is cradling his heart in his hands. He tears the blindfold off and kisses his love, long and worshipfully, pouring the bounty of his catharsis into the air around them, their shared breath and their shared life. He can feel Zuko smiling against his mouth, the updraw of his lips like the inexorable tides, rising ever higher in passion.

As they part, he drags Zuko up the steps to stand shoulder to shoulder with him on the dais, looking out over the sanctuary. It's beautiful, but also forlornly empty of anyone but themselves.

Zuko sees the fleeting wistfulness in his expression. "I know normally the hall would be filled with other airbenders in training, and everyone would participate in the ritual of the bells," he says. He gently rubs a thumb back and forth over the back of Aang's hand in comfort.

"Yeah, well, that's not going to happen in this case."

Zuko sighs. "There may not be any more airbenders, but that doesn't mean that Air Nomad culture has to die. Plenty of people would still be interested in learning and reviving the spiritual ways of your people."

Aang pulls away from him and extends one arm, summoning a current of air into existence and letting it spool around the candles and incense jars lining the periphery, fragrant smoke twisting sky-high. "Really? Like who?"

"Who do you think helped me set up all the incense and decorations, _Sifu_ Aang?" Zuko asks pointedly. "None other than Yue Fei, Yue Zha, and most of my students from Calligraphy 101. Actually, half the children in the village jumped at the opportunity to beautify this place and restore it to its original purpose. They love their new home, and their curiosity about its origins knows no bounds."

Zuko lifts one hand, extending the other behind him, and with long, perseverant strokes, begins to divert some of the airstream to perturb the bells and chimes into song once more. The arc of his arms is broad and beautiful, confident in their ability to bend the element and a new future for a lost generation. Aang stares at him, stricken with incredulity that he hasn't thought of this before.

"After all, what is a master without students?" Zuko says in his ear even as the hall resonates with their hope for the rebirth of the spirits laid to rest in this very temple.

"As far as I'm concerned, you are the master of my heart." He's gratified to see Zuko's form falter at the compliment. "This is the best birthday present ever. Thank you, Zuko."

Together, they bend the symphony of a new generation, the song of the future Air Acolytes.

* * *

 **A/N** : I don't have an exact date in mind for Aang's birthday - somewhere around early March, maybe, to fit with my series' timeline. The bell concert was inspired by Jinora's anointment ceremony in LoK.

Thanks for reading!


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